


cloudwatching

by isawet



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 04:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isawet/pseuds/isawet
Summary: Two conversations post finale.





	cloudwatching

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta-ed, cleaning out my docs.

Villanelle stains Eve’s skin, her fingers. She looks at it, the copper tinge through the translucent raggedness of her nail. 

She wraps her lips around it, feels the bite of her own teeth on her skin. 

A hollowing of her cheeks, of herself: there it is, her victory. Villanelle’s blood on her tongue.

//

Villanelle calls three weeks later. Her stitches are intolerable and she’s bored of tugging at their little black squiggly threads. They remind of her centipedes, and she imagines them burrowing into her body and eating all the rotted dead skin away. “When I thought about you penetrating me, I thought it would hurt less.”

She listens to Eve breathe through the phone. 

“Your hair was just as I imagined.”

Eve says nothing, and Villanelle scowls at the ceiling. She’d gone to three wig shops looking for something similar and none of it compared to the springy curls. And they’d all smelled like synthetic fibers and rubbing alcohol. She wants to know if Eve still wears the scent Villanelle picked out for her.

“You are not playing with me,” she accuses venomously. “It is like you want me to be bored.”

“I don’t want to play with you,” Eve says, and Villanelle rolls her eyes. “This isn’t a game!”

“It could be,” Villanelle tells her, counting down in her mind. There’s only so long they can play before Eve’s little machines track her down. “If you’d play it with me.”

“I don’t want to play with you,” Eve repeats, but her voice wobbles. “You killed Bill. I hate you.”

“Liar,” Villanelle sing-songs, and ends the call.

++

Villanelle arranges to have another bottle of her perfume sent to Eve’s new apartment. She’s not supposed to know about Eve’s new apartment, but that’s what makes the game so fun.

“Tell me something you like,” she demands, the next time she asks. “My fantasies are getting stale.” There’s only so many times she can find a curly haired older woman at a bar, only so many times she can replay their last conversation in her head.

“Turn yourself in,” Eve counters, “and you can have the real deal.”

Villanelle sighs. 

“Tell me something you like,” Eve counters, and Villanelle brightens. Eve is just trying to keep her on the line, but she is engaging in conversation instead of railing about all the terrible things Villanelle has done. Like she doesn’t know what she herself has done.

“Cloud watching.”

“You like cloud watching? _You_ like cloud watching?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I like cloud watching? I like clouds. I like to watch them.” Villanelle’s favourite cloud is the one that passes over the eyes just before someone dies. The color goes all foggy, unfocused. Pretty. It’s why she hates it when they go with their eyes closed, just to spite her fun.

Eve almost-laughs. It’s one of those laughs people do when they’re not really feeling happy; it’s Villanelle’s favourite kind of laugh, because it sounds like they’re faking. It’s not fair when Villanelle fakes and no one else does. “How did you do it?”

“Did what?”

“Last week, in Venice.”

“Venice,” Villanelle parrots, copying Eve’s American accent just so. She’d liked Venice. She’d liked it best when the tide was going out and everything was water stained and smelled of rot. “The politician.”

“Six armed guards,” Eve says, and Villanelle wonders if she knows how her voice has gone, half-breathless and awed. “No one saw a thing.”

Villanelle hums, low in her throat. It had been a pretty thing, what she’d done to him. Took him apart, took her time. Used him to write Eve’s name on the wall. “There is not enough time,” she says, not without a pout. “Because you are cheating at our game.” Always recording, always waiting. Always tracking. “You are starting to get boring,” she warns.

She thinks about that husband. She’s not supposed to know where he is, but she does. She wonders what she could write above his body.

“No one is tracing the call,” Eve confesses, and Villanelle sits up from her slouch.

“Really?” she asks, breathless herself. “Do not lie.”

“I haven’t told anyone you’re calling me.”

“No one?” Villanelle is delighted.

“No one.” She can hear a scrape across the line, like Eve has propped the phone against her chest to take a deep breath. Villanelle wonders if she could touch herself to orgasm while listening to Eve talk without her noticing. “It’s just us.”

_Just us_

“Some day,” Villanelle promises her, “we will watch clouds together.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @ sunspill


End file.
